


Not Somebody Important

by Morning66



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning66/pseuds/Morning66
Summary: Sometimes, late at night, when he lies awake in bed, eyes trained upward, watching Yue trace her path across the ceiling, Sokka gets to thinking.
Kudos: 15





	Not Somebody Important

Sometimes, late at night, when he lies awake in bed, eyes trained upward, watching Yue trace her path across the ceiling, Sokka gets to thinking.

It's not that he doesn't usually think because he does.(Yes, Katara, he can think. Wow.) He's a representative on the council, a leader in the city and that takes no shortage of thought, of analysis. He's always been the plan guy, thinking ahead to far flung possibilities and he likes to believe he's funny, witty, and sarcastic, which takes its own special kind of thought. No, it's not that Sokka doesn't think, it's just that usually it's the practical kind of thought, the "this is what things are, what should I do next" kind of thought.

But on those nights, when the breaths beside him have long since evened out, when the approaching morning seems a millennia away and the distant past seems less of a memory, more of a reality, Sokka gets to reflecting.

Maybe it's the fact that he's watching the spirit of a girl he once kissed, once thought he loved, dance across his bedroom ceiling. Maybe it's because at night Republic City's quieter, calmer, more like the nights of his childhood than the bustling days of now. Maybe it's because it's the only time he's left truly alone with his thoughts.

Whatever the reason, on those nights, when he should really be sleeping, resting for the day ahead, Sokka watches his life replay itself, memories hazy with age and not as sharp as they were even ten years ago.

The weird thing, he thinks on one such night, is that his entire life is built upon things he did when he was fifteen. _Spirits_ , he thinks, _fifteen was so young_. He didn't realize it then maybe, but they were all so, so young, barely more then children, fighting a war with innocence in their eyes and goodness in their hearts and too much hope for their scrawny bodies.

And so all that was when he was a kid, just a boy really. Sure, it's not that he's just been sitting around since then. He's helped connect people and heal the world's wounds cut jagged and deep and burned from a hundred years of war, protected the innocent and prosecuted those who deserved it. But the truth, no matter how much he dislikes it, is that had it not been for that year, he wouldn't have a life that in any way resembles the one he lives now. He wouldn't be important or special or even notable.

His friends might have been. Aang, the Avatar, destined to save the world, destined to be famous and influential and important. Zuko, the Crown Prince of a superpower, born to be revered, born to rule. Toph, with more bending and strength in her than any one person should have a right to. The Blind Bandit would have made her way, with or without them coming.

Even Katara, he thinks, would have been important, with her bending and compassion and heart, and that's the hardest part. The two of them, both born in a frozen land of nothing, both raised on the same simple values-finding food, taking care of the children, defending their tiny village-but they're not the same. Nowhere near the same. He's known that since he was a child, since they found out she was a waterbender, but he never knows it as much as he does when he lies awake in the dark.

Sure, Sokka realizes he helped. Knows that his actions, his bravery, his sword fighting, his plans and map skills, and, Spirits, maybe even his sarcasm helped defeat Ozai. It's just that he also knows they could have done it without him. There’s lots of people who can fight with weapons and plan attacks. And that hurts like a punch to the gut, an arrow to the heart, a boomerang to the back of the head.

When it's light out, when he's serving on the council or representing his people, it's a lot easier to pretend he matters, to pretend that he's important and significant and needed. At night, though, when the dark creeps in and sleep refuses to claim him, it's harder to deceive himself. He sees himself for what he is: a helpful lackey, a sidekick to those who truly matter. He not a nobody, he's a somebody, just not an important somebody.

**Author's Note:**

> So I don’t actually think any of this. Sokka’s really cool and honestly one of my favorite characters!! I guess I just think sometimes he might be kinda insecure??
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading!! :)


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